Page 52 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

Natalia giggles, the sound almost convincing. "Oh, stop it, you charmer."

As we continue to exchange pleasantries, I marvel at Natalia's ability to appear so carefree. Her laughter rings out, genuine-sounding despite our earlier argument. It reminds me of her ability to adapt, her resilience. It's what I love about her, even as it frustrates me.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cuts through our conversation. "Natalia? Is that you?"

I turn to see a man approaching, his face lit up with recognition. He's young, probably closer to Natalia's age than mine, with an easy smile and an air of confidence that immediately sets me on edge.

"Max?" Natalia exclaims, her surprise evident. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

The man—Max—pulls Natalia into a friendly hug, and I feel my jaw clench. "I'm here with my uncle," he explains, his hand lingering on Natalia's arm. "He's doing business with your family. But wow, look at you! You haven't changed a bit since university."

I watch as Natalia's face lights up, her earlier tension seemingly forgotten as she walks away to get a drink with Max, chattering away with this blast from her past. My gaze darkens as I observe their easy rapport, the way Max leans in close to hear her over the noise of the party.

I watch as he says something funny and Natalia swats at his chest playfully.

Something twists in my gut at the sight. I know I should trust Natalia, know that this is harmless reminiscing between old friends.

But a possessive part of me wants to stride over there, to stake my claim. I fight to keep my expression neutral as I watch them from across the room, my hand tightening around my glass.

My blood boils as I watch Max's hand casually rest on Natalia's lower back to guide her toward a grazing table. It's an innocent gesture, but in my mind, it's a declaration of war.

Natalia’s eyes scan the room until they meet mine. She quickly averts her gaze back to Max, and I can tell she doesn’t want to be caught watching me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.

"You look like you're about to snap that glass in half," a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.

I turn to see my sister, Lara, her knowing eyes fixed on me. She nods toward Natalia and Max. "Old friends?"

"Apparently," I growl, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Lara sighs, placing a hand on my arm. "Denis, take it from someone who's been there. The tighter you hold on, the more she'll slip away."

I bristle at her words, but she continues, her voice gentle but firm. "I was in Natalia’s position once, Denis. I used to feel stifled when I lived with you all. Remember how I acted out when you all—Abram, Vladimir, Mark, and you—tried to control my every move? Don't make the same mistake."

"But how do I keep her safe without—" I start, my voice low and conflicted.

"By trusting her," Lara interrupts. "And by remembering that she chose you, not him or anyone else."

Her words hit home, forcing me to confront the ugly truth of my behavior. I clench my jaw, fighting against the urge to dismiss her advice outright.

Natalia looks over in our direction again, and on noticing I’m still watching, turns her back to me.

"It's not that simple," I mutter, more to myself than to Lara.

She squeezes my arm gently. "It never is. But she's not some delicate flower, Denis. She's strong, stubborn even. Remind you of anyone?"

I can't help but chuckle at that, tension easing from my shoulders. "Point taken."

Natalia’s laughter rings out. She’s happy catching up with an old friend. Why am I so bothered by it? I might not know Max, but if he’s an old friend, he’s obviously not a threat to her.

As Lara drifts away, I'm left alone with my thoughts. The protective instinct that's been my constant companion wars with the growing realization that I might be pushing Natalia away. It's a bitter pill to swallow, admitting that my actions could be driving a wedge between us.

I find myself drifting toward a quieter corner of the room, my eyes never straying far from Natalia. She's moved away from Max now, mingling with other guests, but I notice her gaze flicking toward me every so often.

Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The soft curve of her lips, the way her dark blonde hair catches the light—it's all I can focus on. Even from a distance, the connection between us is palpable, electric.

I watch as she excuses herself from her current conversation, to make way to her siblings. She laughs with them, basks in their company, and I feel jealous.

This whole night, she’s kept away from me because of what I’ve done. When all I want is for her to give me company, to be happy on my arm.

---